Mr Lovable
by sagi babe
Summary: PREQUEL to 'THE HOLIDAY'. The ranks of double agents gains new members. Draco has to convince Hermione that they are soulmates. The Order learns acceptance. A story of love, forgiveness and, of course, humour.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter Series.

A/N: Welcome to my new story!

I know many of you were expecting the sequel but if you read my author note on the last chapter of 'The Holiday', I mentioned there was something else I had to do first. This is it. A bit weird, I admit, especially since many things are left unresolved. But I simply cannot allow myself to write the sequel without writing the prequel first. This has been nagging me since the 19th chapter of my last story so bear with me, I do have a plan.Those of you who noted that we skipped out the dinner with Dimitri Minichiello, it was intentional. Don't worry.

This is not a songfic, I just wanted to share my inspiration for the story. By the way this story is completely AU.

Anyway, on with the story...

* * *

_Incompatible, it don't matter though _

_cos someone's bound to hear my cry_

_Speak out if you do _

_you're not easy to find._

_Is it possible __Mr.Lovable _

_is already in my life?_

_Right in front of me_

_or maybe you're in disguise._

_- Natasha Bedingfield, Soulmate._

* * *

Though it was dark in the alley that the four figures were huddling in, the road they were facing was brightly lit with street lamps. This gave them the perfect view of the houses numbered 11 and 15. The number they were looking for was nowhere to be seen. Of course, they had been assured that it did,in fact, exist but the only female member of the group could not help but doubt that this was a trap.

She pulled her heavy cloak tighter around her frame in an effort to make herself warmer as the snow fell gently around them. She looked to the man standing in front of her, his gaze was entirely focused on the area around them. His eyes darted around the quiet neighbourhood, searching for anything suspicious. His posture was tense as if he expected danger to lurch out at them at any moment and although his hands were in the pockets of his cloak, she knew that his right hand was tightly clenched around his wand.

She also allowed her eyes a sweep of the area. Nothing stood out to her though she could tell that this was a wealthy area. The surrounding houses all had their curtains drawn and she found herself thinking that it was better this way.

Nobody to question their presence in the shady alley.

The woman glanced at the figures that were slightly behind her, leaning against the alley wall. She didn't need to read their facial expressions to tell that they were less than pleased to be here. There had been a massive argument over this issue and currently everyone in the alley was ignoring the tension that still lingered. Her gaze remained on the two of them. They could not have been more different in appearance but their mindsets were so similar.

No doubt of their upbringing.

Both of them were very against this but they were no longer any other choices out of their predicament. Her own heart beat wildly at the implications and consequences of what they were about to do. Fear for every one of them held her captive as she thought of what would happen if they were suspected by either side. Still looking at the two figures, she felt in danger of losing control over her emotions.

They were so young. They shouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of decisions made before they were even born.

She turned away and blinked furiously, thankful for the darkness. She didn't need to go in looking a fright. _He_ wouldn't like it anyway. He thought emotions made one seem weak. She looked at his impassive face again. He may be able to fool others but not her.

Never her.

He was scared as well. He had no idea of what he was leading them into; he only knew that they couldn't go on as they had been. Now here they were, leaving their home and everything they knew behind, hiding in an alley in the cold while they waited for their correspondent in the dead of night.

The young men behind her were very quiet; she didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Maybe the severity of what was about to transpire was finally dawning on them.

_Well, there's no turning back now._

Just as she thought this, the sound of somebody apparating reached their ears. The pop filled their alley. Somebody walking in the area could come by to investigate. But then, she consoled herself, there was_ no one _in the immediate area, she thought again of their good fortune.

She cast her eyes to the back of the alley where their correspondent was walking calmly toward the group. He was not dressed to face the elements so he must have cast a charm on his light clothes to keep him warm and alive. If any of these muggles saw him, they would think he was insane.

"Evening."

"You're late." Her husband stepped in front of her, still not relaxing his posture.

"Excuse my tardiness of three minutes." Severus said sarcastically.

"Let's just get this over with."

Severus smirked at her husband's attitude. Although they had approached him with this idea and had been working on it for weeks now, they could not dispel the uneasiness over what would happen this night.

He led them out of the alley that they had been standing in for twenty five minutes now and onto the sidewalk. He waited for them to gather under the streetlight directly opposite the space between houses eleven and fifteen. She noted that her son's platinum blonde hair shone under the light of which they stood.

"They're all waiting." Severus said, looking at each of them in turn. She wondered if he could tell that she felt as if she were about to be sick.

There was silence.

She took a deep breath and turned toward the two young men, "Are you two still neat? Fix your hair, son." She said, fussing over them. "And please, be polite and...and smile. It will help them think we're not against them."

They did not change their sullen expressions so she gave up. She turned to face her husband again, he was watching her with a curious look in his eye. He looked away and nodded his head at Severus.

"Lead the way."

The Malfoy family and Blaise Zabini followed Severus Snape across the road of Grimmauld Place to the house numbered 13.

Which they still could not see.

* * *

A/N: So the story has officially been launched. I've had this prologue in my head for a while and it feels good to have it written out.

Let me know what you think because reviews are always appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: I'm sorry I took so long to update! Things have just been hectic...Anyway on with the story...

* * *

The penniless, red-headed Weasel children were watching him, checking to make sure that he and Blaise didn't get too comfortable while his parents were being interrogated by the Order.

Their impoverished ex-professor, Lupin, had conjured up two wooden chairs for him and Blaise to sit on outside the door. Obviously they didn't want them straying to far. Not that they would get very far what with such diligent watch dogs guarding them. Four out of the Weasley brood were situated on the staircase watching the every twitch of his face and the sniffle of Blaise's pink nose.

Not a word had been uttered but there was plenty of glaring going around.

Draco noted that two thirds of the 'Stick up their arses' trio were missing. Only the pauper sidekick was present to glare daggers at him. Pothead and his pet mud-muggleborn were missing.

He had almost forgotten that he was now _forbidden_ to even mutter the word 'mudblood' anymore as his mother had put it. 'If we are going to do this, we might as well go all the way' were his mother's words. His parents were absolutely insane! There was no way that the order would willingly accept them. They were the Malfoys; they would sooner drop dead than trust his family.

And why in Merlin's name were they even changing sides? Sure the Dark Lord's chances were very slim and yes, Potter had found three of the horcruxes already and alright, most of the Death Eaters were a bunch of snivelling cowards. They were all prepared to torture defenceless muggles but when it came to a 20 year old boy then they all cowered in fear. Fine, Draco supposed his parents had _substantial_ reason for wanting to change sides. But considering it was one thing, he never actually thought they would go through with it. And now here they were, right in the Lion's den.

When he and Blaise had been informed, they had been very quick to protest and they were immediately silenced by his father. Lucius had said that if they didn't do this then they would never get the chance to be a family again. Draco couldn't believe his ears; not only was his father being sentimental, the very thing he had warned his son against, but he actually expected them to be civil with _that _crowd.

It was simply too much.

And this situation was annoying him to no end. Breaking his heated glaring competition with the Weasel, he turned to look at Blaise. Draco found him to be smirking conspicuously at the female Weasel which was why one of the twins looked like he was about to have a hernia and the other wanted nothing more than to knock the stuffing out of Draco's long time friend. So typically Blaise.

Blaise had been staying with his family at the manor ever since the end of seventh year when his step-father had thrown him out. His parents had welcomed Blaise easily because of his long-standing friendship with their son and plus Lucius had no time for Bartholomew, Blaise's stepfather, whatsoever. Blaise had practically become family which is why he was with them now.

Blaise sniffed again and continued harassing the girl with his eyes. For her part...well, Draco had to admit that she looked downright disgusted. Hmph, she should be falling all over herself that someone of their status even acknowledged her, let alone grace her with his presence. She was probably still lapping after that scarred airhead anyhow. Draco was still curious as to the where-a-bouts of Potter and Granger. He bet the She-Weasel would have a heart attack if she caught them up in one of the bedrooms alone.

"Draco, remind me not to eat anything here or I might end up with the same constipated look these four have got going on here." Blaise said snidely as he leant back casually in his hard, wooden seat.

Draco smirked at his friend's barb but he noticed that their audience did not appreciate the humour as much as he had. Weasel was turning his familiar shade of red.

Typical.

"Don't you insult my mum's-"but he was cut off by one of the twins.

"You might want to be careful, mate, or you might end up with some of that food in a very inconvenient place for you." He stated very coolly.

If Draco were honest, he would think that fairly impressive.

"Good one brother of mine." The other twin complimented.

Before the other could open his mouth again though, the thumping of someone coming down the stairs very fast became audible and then the damnable 'Golden Boy' became visible on the landing.

"What's going on? Why was a meeting called?" Potter queried as he joined the others on the bottom steps, "We would've come sooner but Hermione was onto somethi-"He stopped short once he caught sight of his guests. "What the hell are you doing here?"

It was amazing how fast Potter managed to change his facial expressions. One minute he was friendly and open and the next hostile and bitter. Maybe Pothead had finally learned a thing or two.

"We're sitting. What the hell does it look like we're doing, moron." Blaise always had a way of greeting people, not that Potter's was much friendlier.

"Shut your mouth, you prick." Ah, it seemed Weasel had also retained his way with words.

Draco remained silent and let his expression speak for him which had not changed since he had entered this house: Absolute disgust and disdain over the fact that his expensive shoes had to touch the filthy floors of this dump.

Potter glanced between the two of them but before he could open his gob to make them feel more welcome the doors to the sitting room opened and Lupin and Severus stepped out.

"Ah, it seems you have finally decided to grace us with your presence, Potter." Good ol' Severus could always be counted on.

Potter ignored him and instead addressed Lupin, "I'm sorry Professor but the hell is going on?"

"Language, Potter."

Lupin sighed, "Why don't you all come in and everything will be explained."

Draco stood up from his chair and made to go in and Blaise followed suit but they were interrupted by the barbarian.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Weasley, I do believe that Lupin said 'everyone' did he not?" Severus didn't give him a chance to answer, "I thought so now kindly refrain from speaking." And with that he swept back inside the room.

* * *

After much arguing, screaming, finger-pointing and blame-placing the 'meeting' was finally called to an end. Draco had been sorely tempted to take out his wand and curse a few of these prats (then he remembered that Weasley Sr. had taken his wand ''just in case''.)

They were so ungrateful.

Here was his family offering them their allegiance and his father, who was in Voldemort's inner circle, offering a golden opportunity to the vaults of information he possessed and the lousy Order had the damn cheek to treat them thusly. He and his family should leave them all to rot.

After it had been determined that the Malfoy's (and a Zabini) were not spies and had no ulterior motives other than to stick together through various truth potions and spells, it had been decided that they were allowed temporary membership to the Order of the Phoenix.

Whoop-de-damn-doo!

Draco could care less. He was tired and he was fed up. All through the meeting he had only spoken when spoken to and he had seen the Gryffindors casting him odd looks. Like he gave a damn what they thought of him. Before he and Blaise could follow his parents out of the sitting room, they were halted by Dumbledore.

"Mr Malfoy. Mr Zabini. It is good to see you well."

"Same to you, Professor." Blaise greeted their former headmaster cordially.

"Professor." Draco inclined his head in greeting.

"There's a change in the winds coming."Dumbledore held Draco's gaze for a second longer, "You boys must be exhausted, I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind preparing rooms for you. I shall enquire for you before we have to get back to Hogwarts. Come Minerva; allow me to escort you to the floo." Dumbledore smiled one last time and then left the room.

"Nice to see you again, Professor...crazy old kook."

"Blaise!" His mother admonished him.

Molly Weasley appeared as Blaise's saving grace. "I can have two rooms ready for you if you'll just give me a minute." She appeared to be unsure of how to act.

His father answered her, "Just a room for the boys will be necessary. I'm afraid my wife and I cannot stay."

Draco nearly choked on his spit.

"Why not?" Potter appeared, suspicion evident in his voice.

"Because Mr. Potter, Death Eaters frequent the manor often and I think they would notice if nobody was home." His father said, snidely. That certainly put the Golden Brat in his place.

"Mother, you can't be serious." Draco spoke as quietly as he could without the remaining Order members who were milling around hearing.

"You've got to be kidding." Blaise chipped in.

"Do not be difficult." Lucius said, also speaking in hushed tones, "It is late and we have all had a very trying time here. You need to stay here so that they understand that we are serious. We need to convince these people that we are truly on their side."

Draco had half a mind to question whether his father truly was on their side. All those years spouting about how muggleborns were a waste of magic and now he had thrown his entire upbringing and beliefs out of the window? Instead Draco turned his head away, showing his (unwilling) consent.

He caught Potter eyeing them distrustfully. Draco glared right back at him until Potter turned and headed into the kitchen where the rest of the Gryffindors where. Draco was able to see into the kitchen from where he was standing.

And that's when he saw her.

Perfectly petite body with curves in every right place. Hair long, dark and tousled which gave her a sexy edge. And her eyes, they were the best part. Dark brown which spoke volumes. Then she moved out of his line of sight.

He got all of this out of one glance from her.

She was beautiful, yes, and he had no idea who she was.

* * *

A/N: Just where has Hermione during all of this hmm? Hopefully, you'll find out soon...

Reviews always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: I find myself with some spare time so I thought that it wouldn't be a bad idea to actually post the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! The fact that you followed me from one story straight to the next means a lot!

* * *

Draco was pacing.

Molly Weasley had taken them up to the room in which they would be spending the night. She seemed a bit apprehensive in their presence and had smiled at them cautiously before she closed the door. What did she expect? That this was all some elaborate plan so that Draco could go on a wild and rambunctious killing spree? Not bloody likely, his father would kill him for ruining his perfect plan.

Idly, Draco had wondered if that was the only thing holding him back at the moment. His parents were long gone, leaving him and Blaise in a house full of people who would take great pleasure in hexing them to the moon and back.

He stopped and took in the room again. He could see that the room had been stripped, it looked bare. He supposed it wasn't that bad though it lacked the grandeur of the manor, still it was better than the cramped quarters of Hogwarts all those years back. It had only been three years since he had graduated but it felt like a lifetime ago. Now what with the war and the double crossing, he felt as if it should have aged him. Maybe it had in a way.

At least not physically, he thought smugly.

Draco Malfoy was extremely aware of his effect on the opposite sex. During this time of war, he still found it a good knock for his ego every time he made a female blush. Though, most of the women on the Dark Lord's side were a bit…insane. Pansy Parkinson for example, he had not seen her in months. Not that he minded. A woman who was confident was a good thing to him, a really good thing. But Pansy was the epitome of getting carried away, especially since Draco saw absolutely nothing pretty to rave about.

Speaking of pretty…Draco brought the image of the girl he had seen in the kitchen to the forefront of his mind, closing his eyes and trying to remember the details of her face before it slipped away. For the life of him, he could not place her. And yet those eyes, he felt as if he has stared into them a thousand times before. What the hell was happening? He had looked into his fair share of women's eyes and not once had it unsettled him as it did now. It had been such a fleeting glance, how could it have such an effect on him?

He couldn't decide if the feeling in his gut was completely sickening or completely delicious. There was still the question of who she was and where she had come from. Maybe she was from beauxbatons or maybe from an entirely different continent. Merlin, she hadn't even looked him straight in the eye and look what she had done! Maybe she was a veela…No; her hair was much too dark. He found himself thinking that he quite liked the shade of her hair.

Okay, this had to stop. Now.

He looked at Blaise who had been poking around in the drawers and cupboards as soon as Molly Weasley had closed the door and the polite smile had dropped off his face. Blaise was good at convincing people that he was decorous.

"What are you looking for?" Draco asked, as Blaise opened up a chest at the foot of one the single beds.

"Nothing specific," Blaise said, sticking his head in the chest, "Thought I doubt I'll find anything. Everything is empty, no trust I tell you."

Draco snorted, "I doubt the precious Order would trust us alone with any valuable information. We might go skipping off to the Dark Lord."

Blaise laughed half-heartedly at this, lying on his back on his bed. Obviously, he was thinking of the same thing that Draco now was. What would happen when the Dark Lord found out?

Draco quickly changed the topic," Severus looked as if he was enjoying our pain."

"Yeah well, who would have thought we'd have to play house with the Gryffindors in order to save our lives? And just let _Severus_ hear you calling him by his first name, he'd likely poison you."

His friend was exaggerating but Draco knew he had a habit of calling the older crowd by their first names when not in their presence. He was an adult now too so why shouldn't he? Though he would never dare say it to his former Head of House's face. Draco walked over and collapsed on the single bed across from Blaise.

They were both silent, contemplating what the future would hold for them now. Draco's father had been successful in prolonging their initiation into the Death Eater circle. It was an unspoken law that the Dark Lord expected both of them to join him officially and take the mark. When Draco had left school, he thought that it was his inevitable fate to get that tattoo, to be branded as one of them. But his father had been lucrative in delaying the ritual; he knew that the Dark Lord had been getting impatient.

Neither of them had taken a life and Draco had found that he was not looking forward to it in the least. Now, Draco dared to hope that he would never have to take away an innocent life. The Order may _think_ that he was cruel, prejudiced and spiteful but there was one thing he was not.

A murderer.

And so, he and Blaise had stood on the sidelines while the other boys that they had grown up with had accepted the mark and joined in on the killing and torturing of innocents. Slowly losing their identity and becoming just what the Dark Lord wanted – a Death Eater.

"Did you see Granger?" Blaise suddenly asked, stumbling Draco out of his dark thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Oh you did, didn't you? I forgot, I thought you might collapse and I would be left to drag your body all the way up here." Blaise continued, staring up at the ceiling as if recalling a fond memory.

"What are you talking about? Pothead had Granger locked up somewhere." Draco said, he could not remember seeing her in the sitting room while they were being interrogated.

"Uh, Draco, you were only just staring at her as if she were Heaven and Hell." Blaise replied, turning to look at him.

Draco raised an eyebrow incredulously, "Hell I can believe but Heaven? You need sleep, Blaise."

Blaise sat up and laughed, "Blocked it out, have you? Was it too much to bear?" He laughed again, "I didn't think it was possible but it seems she got even prettier during these years."

Draco's eyes widened in shock while Blaise shook his head wistfully. His friend was losing his mind and he took it upon himself to tell him so.

"Oh, please, you noticed it too. Don't tell me you didn't because your mother saw you ogling her too."

"Wait, wait. When was this?" For some reason, Draco held his breath as he waited for Blaise's reply. Something told him he already knew the answer but he didn't want too even comprehend the thought.

"When Potter went into the kitchen? She was standing there with a mug in her hands, ringing any bells? Though I do feel sorry for you, she looked straight at me while you were busy eyeballing her." Blaise thought he was pretty funny.

And then it was silent. Draco was frozen stock still on the bed, his thoughts racing as what Blaise had just sunk in. It rang bells, all right.

"Granger?" He croaked out.

"Yeah, what the hell were you staring at then?" Blaise asked, skeptically.

"_That_ was Hermione Granger?" Draco screwed his eyes shut in disbelief, trying to banish the image of her as he had just seen her from his mind. It was not easy…

"Draco, she looks exactly the same. Except a little hotter." At the look he received from his friend, he sat up finally clicking, "You're telling me you never noticed? Where were you seventh year? She had half the year pining after her!"

It was too hot in this room, "You're mad! Granger? No way!"

Blaise raised both his eyebrows.

"How come I never noticed?"

Blaise flopped back on the bed, "Maybe because you weren't looking."

Draco held his breath again.

* * *

She couldn't believe that she had missed the entire thing. While she had been researching horcruxes in the library, the Malfoy's had sworn their allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix. It was just her luck really, to be sitting so typically in the library while something like this took place. When she had seen Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy with Blaise Zabini, she actually thought for one impossible second that they were under attack. She could not believe it.

"I can't believe it." Hermione said in shock, letting the occupants of the kitchen know exactly what she was thinking.

"Neither do I, "Ron said heatedly, "Do they think that we're stupid? It' so obviously a trick! Who do they think they are?"

"Why it's Lucius Malfoy, Ronald! Don't you know that the sun shines out of his-"

"Don't finish that sentence if you value your life, Gin," Fred chuckled, "You never know when mum might barge in here."

"They actually showed up here. If I hadn't have seen them with my own eyes I would think that this was some really twisted prank." Hermione said, picking her forgotten mug up from the counter.

"Now that we're talking about pranks," George said a wicked gleam in his eyes, "Maybe we should give them a proper welcome."

Hermione tuned the rest of the conversation out. The older members of the Order were all back in the sitting room, probably discussing what had just taken place but the six of them had remained in the kitchen so that they could have a discussion of their own.

This was too astounding. Professor Dumbledore had actually granted them temporary association to the Order. This could all be one elaborate, ugly plan to destroy the Order from the inside! A Death Eater from Voldemort's inner circle, nobody could say that it wasn't suspicious.

Also, what else was suspicious was that the youngest Malfoy had been nowhere in sight. Maybe he had revolted against his family's decision to turn their backs on Voldemort, choosing rather to take his father's place in the inner circle. That is, if is father had truly turned his back. Hermione remembered Draco Malfoy clearly from their Hogwarts days. Strutting around the castle like he was doing the Professors a favor by being there, making all the dimwitted girls blush by smirking at them.

Taking a sip of her hot chocolate, she decided not to dwell on that too much. She looked at Harry, who had not said a word since coming into the kitchen and, like her; he was clearly not paying attention. He was staring at the table and his mug was held in his hand, forgotten. His expression was troubled and that was why she called out to him.

"Harry, what is it?"

Immediately, the others who were plotting a welcoming committee, turned to look at the Boy-who-lived as well. Hermione noted with interest that Ginny looked especially concerned.

Harry did not raise his eyes from the table but he replied, "I- I don't know if I trust this but they admitted under every truth spell and potion that all they wanted was to be a family. One side of me wants to believe that Lucius Malfoy has had a change of heart but the other keeps bringing up evidence that there is no way it could ever be possible."

"Yeah, mate, his track record is far from sterling." Fred said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"And the way Draco behaved. He didn't pass one snarky comment, he didn't even-"

"Malfoy was here as well?" Hermione didn't know why it interested her as it did.

"Didn't you see him? He was standing with his family and Zabini when you saw them." Ginny asked, remembering all too well his facial expression.

"Rotten git," Ron muttered, "He might not have said anything but his face clearly said it all."

"I just can't believe that he can keep his mouth shut without spewing rubbish out every ten seconds, " George added, "And now both Little Dracie and Blaisie are sleeping peacefully upstairs."

Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room and looked around at all of them around the kitchen table, "What are you all still doing up? It's nearly two in the morning."

Hermione could not believe this, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were staying at the headquarters. Staying here where they were staying. And they would all have to interact. Well, the morning should be more beguiling.

Because tonight had been too surreal.

* * *

A/N: So both Hermione and Draco are aware of each others presence. Wonder what the first meeting will be like…?

Reviews always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: Thank you for reading and thank you for the lovely reviews!!

* * *

Draco had never been an early riser. His reluctance to leave the coziness of his bed in the early morning had followed him through Hogwarts and into his adult life. Blaise had always been his alarm clock, thinking up new and ingenious ways to make his fellow Slytherin get up in time to have breakfast.

Today seemed no different. In a house full of Order members, Gryffindors and Potter's pals who would not hesitate to inflict some damage on them; Draco continued to slumber contentedly. All the mania of last night did not reflect on his face as he slept. He looked as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Blaise knew that this was not true. As soon as his best friend was woken, he would adopt his stony countenance that had been plastered firmly in place upon entering the house. Last night, he noted that Draco had said nary a word in the presence of the Order members. It really was a pity that the Gryffindors would never see the other side of Draco Malfoy, they had immediately cast him in the part of arch nemesis but it was not without fault, Draco played the part flawlessly.

None of them knew but nine years ago, the almost – Slytherin group had been very excited to learn that Harry Potter had been on the train to Hogwarts. They had heard as much about him as eleven year olds could and were curious to see if he possessed the qualities needed to be sorted into Slytherin. Draco, following the only example he had -his father- had been confident that the Boy-Who-Lived would undoubtedly hold him in high regard as well, had continued the Malfoy versus Weasley war. And hadn't that backfired spectacularly?

Now as adults it was Malfoy versus Weasley, Potter, Granger and the rest of the world. Well, maybe not Granger anymore, Blaise had noticed the look in Draco's eyes as he looked at her yesterday. Like a man dying of a thirst only Hermione Granger could quench. If it didn't seem completely crazy, Blaise would have had a good laugh to himself at how things had changed since their school days.

Who would've imagined that his step-father would notice him long enough to kick him out? Resulting in him staying at Malfoy Manor for an indefinite period of time only to join the fight _against_ the Dark Lord which led to his best friend realizing that he was attracted to the virtuously beautiful protector of all things house elf?

Blaise was just preparing to tip the mattress Draco was soundly asleep on when somebody decided to try and open the bedroom door, after finding that it would not budge there was an annoyed exhalation of air and then Lucius Malfoy spoke.

"Get up and open this door before I blast it open."

Last night, after realizing that Arthur Weasley still had their wands and that they didn't trust anyone in the house, they had pushed the dresser in front of the door to insure that they had no unwelcome guests in their room. Sure, it wasn't enough to prevent magic from working but it would slow the intruder down (or so they hoped).

"Hold on a moment." Blasé moved away from Draco's bed and proceeded to move the dresser away from the door.

Lucius unceremoniously flung the door open, catching Blaise in the back and causing him to stumble into the dresser. Draco's father only raised an eyebrow at the piece of furniture that had served as a barricade.

"Awake I see. Where's the other lump?" Luicus asked, walking fully into the room with a duffel bag in his hand.

_Good morning to you too._ "Where else would he be at this time of the morning? Didn't Narcissa come as well?" Blaise asked as Lucius set the bag down, pulling his wand out and swishing it in the direction of Draco's bed.

"_Exitus._ No but she sent you clothes." He drawled, gesturing to the bag as Draco's mattress abruptly flung him to the floor.

"Fuck!" Draco yelled, rubbing his forehead. Blaise coughed conspicuously, trying to draw attention to their guest who seemed disillusioned by his son's colorful language this morning.

"What was that?" Lucius asked, raising both eyebrows and leaning forward. Exaggerating his motion as he waited for an answer. Draco ceased nursing his throbbing forehead and fixed his wide eyes on his father.

"Duck. I was dreaming about ducks…" Draco trailed off unconvincingly.

"Hmmm. Get up and get dressed. Your mother had the house elves pack for you. Be quick about it, we have to get to work." Lucius said curtly, addressing the both of them.

"And just what work would that be?" Draco questioned snippily (which would have worked better if he wasn't sitting on the floor in his boxers, tangled up in the sheets).

Blaise managed to refrain himself from jumping as Lucius flicked his wand at the door and it banged shut. Draco's father looked as if he was trying to hold on to his last nerve, which his son seemed to be sorely testing. A vein in his neck was in danger of having a life of it's own as he glared murderously at the both of them. Ah, it seemed Narcissa had not let him have an easy morning either.

"Listen here the both of you. I don't care how old you are, you'll do as you're told. As long as you live under my roof, you will obey my orders. Do you understand? This may seem like one big joke to you but let me assure you of the danger we are in from both sides of this war at the moment. If these people do not accept us then you might want to start choosing between a dementors Kiss or the Dark Lord's wand, whichever seems more convenient for you."

Blaise stood stock still, staring at Lucius as he took in the words spoken. From the corner of his eye he could see that Draco had turned his head away and was glaring mutinously at the floor, a muscle in his jaw working.

"Now get ready. Professor Snape and I will be waiting downstairs in the sitting room. Remember that Potter and his friends will be down there, _don't start anything._" That said, Lucius turned on his heel and strode out of the room, letting the door shut behind him again.

It was silent in the room until Draco, still sitting on the floor, spoke up sarcastically.

"Yes master."

Blaise sighed at his friend's behavior, "Draco, did you even take in a word he said?"

Finally picking himself up, he glared at his best friend, "Don't you start with me. Taken in with that speech were you? Lucius Malfoy spoke a few words and suddenly you agree with him? Guess the old Malfoy charm still works."

Blaise was getting angry fast, "This isn't a game, you idiot! It's not about sides anymore, lives are involved. Your mother's for example."

Draco did not look at him nor did he say anything. After realizing that he wasn't going to get an answer, Blaise spoke up again, "I'm gonna go shower."

Still Draco stood taut and stiff.

* * *

_Stupid, no-good bastard!_

What was the point of having a friend if they weren't even on your side? How dare Blaise say those things to him? When they had first heard this bloody ludicrous idea of his fathers', they had both been in agreement that it wasdoomed to fail and _bloody ludicrous._

Why did they even have to choose a damn side? Why couldn't they just stay neutral in the war? They could move far from here, away from plots and schemes, killings and tortures. Nobody could say that they were involved then because they would be living their lives. Normality and routine would be his schedule for the day. He could wake up at whatever time he wanted wherever he wanted in the world. And, most importantly, he wouldn't have to prove anything to Potter.

This wasn't the first time that these thoughts had entered his mind and he doubted that this would be the last time. How much easier his life would be if there was no war, no sides, no threat looming over his head. His father had literally stuck all their necks out with this 'perfect plan' that he and Snape had been working on for weeks.

_And where the hell was the kitchen?_

After Draco had returned from his shower, he had found that Blaise had already gone downstairs. That suited him just fine because he had needed time to rant about the spineless git he called a friend. But now, he had been trying in vain to find his way to the kitchen. His stomach was growling intensely and, unlike the books, there was not delicious scent wafting in the air that would lead him to the food. Left to fend for himself and stalking down corridors while opening random doors, Draco had gone back to ranting about the useless ponce that was Blaise Zabini. This had unfortunately led to other thoughts occupying his mind.

And , as always with these thoughts, the others arrived. Would he be able to handle the knowledge that people he had grown up with, people he knew were here dying for what they believed in. But then could he handle being the one who killed them? Therein lay the problem, Draco mused as he opened up double doors bearing intricate carvings, because he did not even know what he believ-

Draco's thought process abruptly shut down as he stared at the sight across the room from him. Dimly, he registered that he was in a fairly stocked library. There was a heavily laden table with armchairs situated by the fireplace. The surface of the table was barely visible through all the stacks of papers strewn all over. But this was not what captured and held his attention.

Hermione Granger looked very good in green, the color complimented her skin tone prettily. Of course, Draco would not realize this until much later as he was too busy staring at the silky looking skin from her waist that had been exposed as her green muggle shirt rode up considerably as she reached for a book on a shelf higher than she could reach.

She did not turn when she heard the doors opening but instead, started speaking, still trying to reach the book, "Harry! Finally, can you get this- Malfoy!" She had turned then to find him frozen in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob.

Her shirt had gone back into place but still, it was a tight shirt and Draco found that his mouth had actually gone dry. He was still staring at her waist that was now covered with cloth. He forced himself to take in a breath and tore his eyes away only to meet her shock filled ones.

Those eyes again.

Last night, he had finally managed to evict the image of her as he had seen her and had drifted into a restful sleep (without a heating charm in the middle of Winter). This morning, he had been too pissed off with his father and his best friend to think about much else. But this, _this_, would ensure that he wouldn't have a sane or decent thought anytime soon.

Granger was shifting around uncomfortably but she did not look away from him. Draco thought he would never be able to. She exhaled shakily and looked down at her shoes. He swallowed nervously and he winced at how loud that had sounded to his ears. Draco started moving then, slowly walking towards her.

Her head shot up as she noticed his movement, regarding him with cautious eyes, warning him not to take another step in her direction. Yet, he could not stop himself and not once had he looked away from her since entering this room. He felt compelled to look at her; every movement caught his attention and held it.

Granger narrowed her eyes at him and set her jaw as he came to a stop in front of her but she didn't back away and he hadn't expected her to. He moved his arm up slowly and she eyed his hand distrustfully, moving her eyes back to his again.

While he noted the scent of her perfume, she opened her mouth to say something to him. However, he did not let her get a word out before he brought the book that she had been trying to reach, down from the shelf and held it out to her, all the while holding her gaze. Her mouth dropped open the rest of the way in shock and her eyes went wide as saucers as she stared at the book he was holding.

"Oh." She said. breathily.

Draco swallowed again and she looked from him to the book again and promptly came to her senses, grasping the book from his proffered hand. Draco held the book and her gaze for a second longer before he abruptly turned and high-tailed it out of there.

* * *

Hermione was still in a state of shock as she walked down to breakfast a whole fifteen minutes later, the same thing still on her mind.

Draco Malfoy.

She had not seen him in three years. He had grown a bit taller. He looked…good, she supposed. But that was not what was foremost in her mind. What had that little scene in the library been? What did he think he was doing, passing her books that she could not reach? He had no right doing that, no right at all.

And certainly not with _that look_ in his eyes. Hermione didn't know what that look meant but she most definitely did not like feeling like she was smoldering and especially not when it was Malfoy who made her feel like that.

_Well, you have no one else to blame but yourself. _What an idiot she was, why hadn't she just used her wand to get the book down? For goodness sake, she could have stood on the armchair to get it. Now she could only blame herself for the fact that Draco Malfoy had been staring at her indecently exposed body.

Actually, it was all Harry's fault! If he had been in the library like he said he was going to be then there wouldn't have been a problem. Malfoy and Harry would have insulted each other, after which Malfoy would have left without even having noticed her. There would have been none of the awkward staring and tension in the air had that happened. Yes, Harry Potter must shoulder all the blame.

After standing frozen in shock where he had left, she had immediately hurried to her room and changed her shirt. She felt much too uncomfortable to be walking around in it when she could see him at any moment in the house. Now, she was making her way down to the kitchen, where she had left Harry with Ron. He had better have a good excuse for not being where he said he would be.

She rushed through the passage unwilling to be in Malfoy's presence alone so soon after that embarrassing situation. She stepped into the kitchen quickly, her heart beating fast from her own paranoia. Unfortunately, her heart didn't have a chance to calm as she found herself staring into familiar silver eyes for the second time that morning.

Hermione had just walked into a very strange scene in the kitchen. Harry, Ron, George and Malfoy sat rigidly at the table watching Blaise Zabini with various forms of disgust apparent. For his part, Zabini was eating jovially while Mrs. Weasley refilled his plate with bacon, beaming at him.

"It's very good, Mrs. Weasley." Blaise complimented charmingly.

"That's not what you were saying last night." Ron growled around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Hush, Ronald." His mother scolded." Don't talk with your mouth full and hurry or there won't be any left for your second helping. Blaise is already on his third helping."

Hermione hardly noticed all of this as Malfoy's eyes held hers again. She watched as his eyes travelled down, taking note of her change of attire and the right side of his mouth tugged upwards. Where did he get off looking at her like that?

She narrowed her eyes at him for good measure, threw a glare at Harry and stalked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as she could muster considering that her insides had turned to jelly from his look.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed their first meeting and that it conveyed the attraction between them in the right way. I tried to make it as natural as I could and I would love to know what you thought…

Also, I didn't want Draco to just fall into place in the Order, I wanted to show that he is really struggling with what his father has done.

Reviews always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: Sorry for making you wait so long. Thank you for the reviews.

* * *

She had been wrong. There was no way on earth that Draco Malfoy could possibly be described as simply 'good-looking'; it paled in comparison to what he actually was. She had been denying it for three weeks now and could finally take no more; Hermione Granger had admitted that she had been wrong. Of course, nobody else needed to know this.

He was handsome, bloody gorgeous!

There she had come clean. Now all she had to do was find the nearest hard surface and proceed to bang her head against it until she got that bloody Malfoy out of her head…or until she got a concussion. Either would be preferable at this point.

Stupid Malfoy and his stupid eyes that did that stupid smoldering thing that made her want to do stupid things.

She shouldn't be thinking of him. She needed to concentrate; Hermione turned her attention back to the thick tome in front of her and completely ignored the fact that she was turning the pages somewhat harshly. She needed to find something (anything!) that would reverse the spell of a horcrux. Something that would eradicate the pieces of Voldemort's soul from the objects in which they were contained.

Of course she had been stuck doing this duty. Nobody else wanted to do it but studious Hermione Granger would give her right arm to be reading books while everybody else did field work, wouldn't she?(Did you note the sarcasm? Yeah, so did I.) Just because she liked reading didn't mean that that was all she was good for. She wanted some adventure too! Well, there was no use complaining now. That's what she had been put in charge of and that's what she would focus on, not Draco Malfoy and his eyes.

Eyes that she had not seen for days now. After the 'incident', as she had termed it, he had been avoiding her. Not once in three weeks did he allow them to be in a room together for more than 5 seconds (Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a little.) and if they were they were most certainly not alone. It was really better that way. It reminded Hermione of what an appalling git he was. How could one person be so rude? Even his parents were trying to be civil; Blaise had all the adults believing that he was the most well-mannered man of his age. So why did Malfoy act as if he were a prisoner here?

Most of the time he spent in the room that he and Blaise Zabini had been given. She only saw him in the kitchen at meal times, though he and Blaise preferred to eat after everybody else. At the only Order meeting after his family's arrival, she had sat across from him and he had not even glanced in her direction. And it didn't bother her in the least.

Except that it did. There were two people in the library that day and Hermione clearly remembered the look in his eye, even if she didn't understand it. He had _obviously_ seen her so why was she the only one affected and he could act as if she was invisible? It had been three weeks and he still hadn't said a word to her.

Three weeks in which she had been forcing herself to believe that she didn't care. He evidently didn't. So now she would take a leaf out of Malfoy's book and go back to her life of order and control. Life where she knew which way was up and which way was down. _And honestly_, she told herself, _it was just one little moment in the library and what happened was because you hadn't seen each other in three years._

Three years from now and she would barely, if at all, remember it. So she didn't care about the moment in the library and the way he looked at her and the fact that he had gotten her book for her. She didn't care that he had given her a secret smile (more like smirk) when he noticed that she had changed. She most certainly didn't care that he was ignoring her existence completely.

Except that she did. And for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

The library door banged open and Hermione shot upright in her seat, pushing aside papers in a vain attempt to appear as if she were searching for something. Ron sauntered in, munching on a sandwich that seemed to be dripping in mayonnaise.

"Ello H'minny. Wof youf ookin fir?" He asked, coming to stand right behind her.

Hermione grimaced, moving forward to avoid getting splashed with mayonnaise before coming up with an excuse, "Swallow, please. I can't find my quill anywhere; maybe I dropped it on the floor."

Before she could move an inch out of her chair though, Ron reached out a messy hand to pick up an object lying in clear view, "This quill?"

Hermione blushed at being caught so easily and Ron shot her a puzzled look, "Erm, Thank you. Did you need anything?"

Ron hopped up to sit on the table and all her information, "Haven't seen you in a few hours so I volunteered to come check if you were still alive."

"Why, thank you, that was ever so thoughtful of you." Hermione replied, as she tried to pull the papers out from under Ron's derriere.

Ron shifted around, trying to get comfortable and no doubt crumpling the papers under him, "Aren't you at all hungry?" He looked from her to his sandwich, "Here, have a bite. It's chicken." He sang in a voice that was supposed to tempt her, thrusting the sandwich under her nose, splattering mayonnaise on the desk.

"Ugh. No thank you." She said, pushing his hand away, "Now get up. You're messing up my research, Ronald." Hermione shoved him half-heartedly to get her point across.

"Alright, alright relax. Anyway, Mum sent me to call you." Ron got up and linked his arm through hers, dragging her up from her chair, "She needs to speak to us about something."

"But my research-"

"Will still be there when you get back."

Hermione gave up and allowed Ron to drag her all the way downstairs to the kitchen, all the while eating his sandwich as noisily and messily as possible while trying to engage her in conversation. Also, all the way down, she tried to watch inconspicuously for any platinum blond heads. By the time they made it to the kitchen, Hermione was sure she would never look at mayonnaise in the same way again.

Ron carried on past her through the door and plopped himself down on the first available seat he could find. Hermione hesitated at the door but when she realized that it was just Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron and herself; she proceeded to seat herself at the table as well.

"Now," Mrs. Weasley began "I want to speak to you about something important but first I need you all to keep an open mind and please, no overreacting." She eyed Ron pointedly.

"Oh Merlin, mum, this isn't another one of those embarrassing conversations is it?" Ron asked aghast, his face draining of color.

"No, son it isn't," Mrs. Weasley suddenly looked suspicious, "Why Ronald Weasley? Do we need to be having another one of those conversations?"

Both Harry and Hermione blushed for Ron although he didn't need the help.

"Uhm. Mrs. Weasley, maybe another day?" Harry interjected quickly.

"Right then. I want to speak to the three of you about our house guests. I'm sure you know who I'm speaking of." Hermione knew _quite_ well who she was speaking of; she had just spent most of the morning agonizing over one of them.

"If you're talking about those two gits then yeah, we know."

"Ronald! Anyway," Mrs. Weasley smiled like Ron had not just interrupted her; folding her hands in her lap, "I've been thinking, Christmas is around the corner, don't you think it would be a good idea if you bought them a little something?"

"No." This time it was Harry who spoke up.

"Oh come now, Harry, "Mrs. Weasley said, "It would be a little peace offering between you and it would make them feel more welcome. A little Christmas spirit won't hurt."

Ron piped up again, "More welcome? Zabini acts as if he owns the place!"

Hermione, wisely, chose to keep silent.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, "Yes but haven't you noticed how out of place Draco seems? The poor boy spends most of his time alone. I think he's just shy and can't adapt to new environments like Blaise can. It would surely make it easier for him if he knew that he had friends here."

Silence met this proclamation.

Hermione highly doubted this argument. Draco Malfoy, out of place? Shy? Was she thinking of the right person? Apparently not because Harry and Ron seemed just as shocked as she did. Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley took their silence for agreement, completely ignoring their expressions.

"Right then. I'll set up a guard to take you to do some last minute shopping."

* * *

When Draco had seen her tousled, brown hair emerging from the library; he had ducked and dived into the nearest available room. It was cowardly, yes, but he was not going to let three weeks of gaining back his control go down the drain just so Granger could turn him into a blushing schoolboy just by looking at him.

As it was, he had thought that he would never be able to forget how she looked in the kitchen when he had first really _seen _her but that _thing_ in the library had completely unwound him. For three weeks he had been fantasizing, daydreaming and even bloody well dreaming about Hermione Granger's exposed waist. Over and over again the scene replayed itself, her reaching up for the book and her shirt creeping up inch by torturous inch.

He had peeked around the doorframe to see that she was not alone. Weasel had been dragging her down the passage, his arm looped through hers. Upon closer inspection, saw Weasel holding a half eaten sandwich filled with Merlin knew what but at the rate at which he had been swallowing and chewing; Draco knew that he had not been ingesting the food before waiting to speak.

He had followed behind them at a reasonable distance, watching the sway of Granger's petite hips and enjoying the view her tight jeans had presented while Weasel talked her ear off. He had been so wrapped up in Hermione Granger that he had not even registered where they were headed to. He had snapped out of his Granger-induced fog once her tousled head had disappeared through the kitchen door. Then only did he realize that he followed them halfway through the house.

He had still been curious about what they had been up to. Maybe they had planned a secret meeting in which they would decide to lock him and Blaise in the dungeon. Did this place even have dungeons?

So, he had crept as close to the door as he dared and listened in on the conversation. And what a ridiculous conversation it had been. Molly Weasley thought he was some lost little boy waiting for the approval of Potter and his pals. Little did she know that Draco thought that Potter could shove his approval where the sun don't shine!

When his parents had arrived that night he had wasted no time in sharing what he had heard. His father had grimaced; Blaise had howled with laughter and his mother…his mother said that it wasn't a bad idea. By the time they had left, she had convinced his father that the gesture should be reciprocated.

So now here they were on Christmas morning and his mother had arrived with three extra gifts. (He didn't know what was in them nor did he want to.)

Draco stood awkwardly at the door of the sitting room while the rest of his mother and Blaise went in, wishing the other occupants of the room a 'Merry Christmas'. He caught sight of Granger leaning against one of the sofa's that the twins were on (throwing streamers at her and the She-Weasel and suddenly wished he hadn't.

The girl -woman- should be banned from wearing festive colors.

"Merry Christmas, Draco!" Mrs. Weasley called out cheerfully; he noticed that the others weren't so cheerful in their wishes. "Come join us, we have a surprise for you and Blaise."

He reluctantly moved forward, joining Blaise as he stood in the throng of Christmas spirit. Mrs. Weasley glared harshly at her youngest son until he gave in and stomped toward them, an ugly expression marring his face. He quickly thrust two untidily wrapped presents at the both of them; Draco managed to catch his just in time, and stomped away without a word.

Draco saw that Blaise was already eagerly tearing his open and decided to do the same (minus the enthusiasm). He tore the wrapping away to find a muggle pen with a figurine of a bikini-clad girl at the end.

Huh.

What was he supposed to do with this piece of shit? Before he could ponder the uselessness of his gift some more, Potter was shoving his gift at him.

"It was the closest to your name that I could find." He explained tersely, before lumbering away.

Potter had given him a keyring. A keyring for the keys he didn't have. Not only that, but a keyring with the name 'Dave' on it. _Closest to my name my arse._

He lifted his eyes suddenly to find Granger directly in front of him. She wasn't looking at him but rather found his shoes quite interesting.

"Merry Christmas." Granger whispered and Draco nearly lost it then and there all over again.

"Thank you." It was so soft that he wasn't sure that he said it at all or if she even heard. She blushed though and quickly scampered away to join the others in their conversation. He watched her until he felt his mother's eyes on him. He didn't look at his mother, knowing all to well that she would be smirking but rather focused on Granger's present. He felt his stomach tie itself in knots at the anxiousness of what she had gotten him.

He took greater care to open the wrapping and when he noticed his actions, he abruptly ripped the Christmas wrapping away to reveal Granger's present.

A laminated bookmark of a rhino. Swell.

He looked over to see that Blaise wasn't very keen on his mug, lip ice and breath mints either. Mrs. Weasley though was beaming from ear to ear.

Draco decided not to stick around as his mother let it slip that they also had gifts for the 'stick up their arses' trio.

* * *

A/N: Haha! The infamous Christmas presents!

Reviews are always appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. You're reviews were lovely. I updated as soon as I could just for you! So know you know the secret formula to get me to update faster...

* * *

Hermione had never felt so guilty in her life. Granted that they hadn't had time to look for proper presents for the two of them but considering what they had gotten them and the fact that their gifts had been purchased at a 24-hour convenience store; it did not sit well with her. This is what she got for following Ron Weasley's advice.

When she had spoken about it to Harry and Ron, they did not seem the least bit remorseful that they had received expensive quidditch wrist guards with their names embroidered on them and that they had gotten the two breath mints, lip ice, a key ring and a pen.

That was nothing compared to her mug and bookmark (laminated, thank you very much) when she had received a beautiful, delicate and no doubt expensive necklace with a cross as a pendant.

Never had she felt so guilty.

Hermione did not delude herself into thinking that either Malfoy or Zabini had purchased the gifts on their own (since they had not left at all). No, this was the work of Narcissa Malfoy, with the help of her husband's money, of course. She could not imagine Lucius Malfoy trailing behind his wife in a store to purchase presents for Gryffindors. Besides, he wouldn't have had the time.

Just before Christmas he and Professor Snape had disappeared to…nobody knew, correction none of the junior members knew, and had arrived on New Year's Eve to inform the Order of a planned attack on Neville Longbottom's house. Harry had been surprised to find that it was not a planned ambush and that Lucius Malfoy had not betrayed them. Ron was convinced that he was trying to gain their trust before he executed _the ultimate betrayal._ Needless to say, they did not ring in the New Year in a very pleasant manner and now that Neville's house had been blown to smithereens, he was back in Grimmauld Place while his grandmother had been set up in the safe house.

Shortly after that, after a brief conference with some of the older members, Malfoy and Snape had disappeared again. Harry had reverted back to sulking and brooding because once again he was being left out of the loop. One night, he had ranted and raved and even cursed a few of the Order then he had moaned on and on about how Dumbledore should trust him by now. He was a man not a boy! Hermione and Ron had dutifully sat through the entire spiel, having grown accustomed to Harry venting his anger. She doubted very much that Ron had heard all of what Harry said.

Because of her husband's extended absence, Narcissa was now staying with them. Like her son, she tended to keep to herself. She had her own room and most days her son and his friend would spend the entire day with her behind the closed door. Nobody bothered them and they didn't bother anyone.

_That was a lie_; Harry and Ron were the only two who seemed bothered by their behavior. Yes, she admitted that it was a little suspicious considering who they were but the two of them had exhausted the topic time and time again. According to them, a nefarious plot was being planned behind that door which included house elves, a sleeping draught and Blaise's breath mints (which Harry had given him). Hermione didn't know how this all fitted together but Ron had informed her that if she thought about it as carefully as they had then it would be very obvious. Fred and George had finally force fed Ron a ton tongue toffee while threatening Harry with the same (for once she hadn't complained). Ron was now in a sour mood with everyone.

"You making tea, Mione?" Ginny asked as she entered through the kitchen door.

"Uh huh." She answered distractedly from her crouched position, finally finding a silver tray right at the back of the cupboard that she had been rifling through. She stood up and began arranging the teapot, cups and biscuits in a neat fashion.

Ginny did a double take, incredulous. "Whoa! Bit fancy, don't you think?"

"It's not just for me," Hermione explained as she pulled out her wand." _Wingardium Leviosa. _I'm taking tea to Mrs. Malfoy. I figured she would be used to this type of stuff."

Ginny stopped her retreat from the kitchen with a sarcastic comment, "So you're her personal house elf now?"

Hermione sighed and placed the tray down on the wooden table, " No Gin, I just thought that she would be less hostile if I had a…'peace offering' with me. Besides I told you, I really want to thank her."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, "You guys really stuffed up but that's what you get when you listen to Ron Weasley."

Hermione laughed at the re-iteration of what she had just been thinking earlier, "Oh, he's not completely useless."

"Yet." Ginny winked.

Hermione was still laughing as she made her way out of the kitchen, her peace offering floating in front of her. The merriment dwindled abruptly and she paused on the staircase. She really hadn't thought this out properly. What if Mrs. Malfoy wasn't in her room? Or better yet, what if her daily visitors were with her? She would make a fool of herself! There was a reason she wasn't directly apologizing to Malfoy and Zabini and that was because she was too cowardly to approach them. Especially with the weird atmosphere between her and Malfoy.

_Just suck it up._ She told herself and continued up the staircase. By the time she had made it to the second floor, she had managed to muster up some courage to go through with this. That was until Mrs. Malfoy's bedroom door opened. Hermione flew into the nearest open room as quickly and silently as she could, nearly sending the tray crashing to the floor.

* * *

Narcissa sank down into the armchair. Now that her son was fetching her some tea, she had time to herself to think over what they had just discussed.

Draco thought that this was past Christmas and New Years was the "crappiest" in all his twenty years as a Malfoy. She didn't know what Blaise had to say (as he was currently preoccupied with who-knows-what) but she found that she had no chance but to agree with her son. There was no lavishness, no extravagance, no luxury, no exuberance in the festive season for them anymore. Not only was her husband away but her family was in a precarious position in the wizarding world and they had to spend the holidays with people who hated them. Not to forget the 'Christmas presents' that Draco and Blaise had received.

All in all, it was not shaping up into a good year for her family.

A hesitant knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Narcissa rolled her eyes, just what she needed right now; visitors.

"Come in." She called, already annoyed.

The door opened to reveal…a silver tray and behind that Hermione Granger. Narcissa's eyebrows rose in surprise. She grudgingly admitted that the girl had turned out quite pleasingly. She knew for a fact that her son was more than happy with her physical appearance now but Narcissa had to wonder if her personality had been improved upon as well. As far as she knew, Hermione Granger was an _insufferable know-it-all._

"Oh. That was fast. You can leave it here." Narcissa indicated the table in front of her.

"Uh, Excuse?" The girl asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"I said that Draco sent you up very fast and you can set it up here, thank you."

"Oh no, no. Your son didn't send me," she smile timidly, "actually I wanted to speak to you. If that's all right."

Narcissa wanted to roll her eyes again, " Well, that wouldn't be too torturous." She conveniently forgot about her son and the fact that he was also bringing her tea.

The girl walked forward and placed the tray in the middle of the table, "Would you like to or should I prepare it for you?"

"No thank you. I'll make my own cup." Narcissa said, leaning forward, not unkindly. If the girl could be polite then so could she.

The next minutes saw the two prepare their tea in a similar fashion. Narcissi settled back as she watched the girl sitting in the armchair across from her. Her big, brown eyes looked around the room interestedly. Narcissa had to admit that she too had been surprised by how big the room was.

"Well?"

"I…I wanted to thank you for the necklace," She didn't look at Narcissa as she said this but focused on the table surface.

That was unexpected.

A feeble "Oh." was all she could manage. She truly did not expect that out of all the reasons Hermione Granger would possibly have to talk to her, it would be to thank her.

"It's really beautiful and I really do appreciate it." Narcissa watched as the pair of brown eyes slowly lifted to settle on her face; judging her reaction.

"…You're welcome." Narcissa finally offered, a smile lifted the girl's mouth, "I admit that I do not know a lot about the religion that the muggles call…"

"Christianity."

"Christianity. Yes. But it seems the popular culture among the muggles here." Narcissa didn't know why had stared talking about, of all things, muggles.

"Well, I'm not an avid church-goer myself," she admitted, " But I do appreciate it."

"…You're welcome."

And they lapsed into an awkward silence.

"Uhm…" Narcissa looked at the girl again, " I also wanted to apologise, on behalf of Harry and Ron as well, for the…gifts…at Christmas. It was rude, awful and childish of us. And then when I saw the gift that you gave me – I've never felt so small in my entire life! It really was a terrible thing for us to do. And Mrs. Weasley has already spoken to us about what we did – oh! I don't want you to think that I'm apologizing because she said so! I-"

"It's fine! It's fine." Narcissa cut in quickly. The girl needed to stop talking so fast. "So that's what the tea is for."

At least she had the grace to blush, "Um, thank you for understanding."

They lapsed into silence again, except that this time it was not filled with unspoken words.

* * *

Hermione Granger was in his mother's room. Hermione Granger was having tea with his mother. Hermione Granger had just thanked and apologized to his mother.

He now had enough evidence to prove that the Hermione Granger that he knew had been replace by a Hermione Granger from the twilight zone. (And he had now used her full name a total of 5 times. Maybe now would be a good time to stop.)

He held the tea cup with both hands as he craned his neck toward the door, waiting eagerly to hear the next words spoken (hopefully from Granger's lips).

Draco, whom his mother thought was a house-elf, had been sent to fetch her tea. Of course, the kitchen had been (blessedly!) empty when he had arrived. Unfortunately, he soon found that 'fetch her tea' actually translated into 'make her tea' and he found himself wishing that someone who knew how to do this would turn up. No such luck. He had immediately sought out Blaise, dragging him back to the kitchen in the false name of an emergency.

Of course, once there, they had stumbled upon yet another conundrum; neither of them knew where _anything_ was to be found. Together that had pilfered and poked through everything, even finding some rather expensive and antique pieces of silverware hidden in a dirty corner. Finally having tottered through the process of actually _making something for themselves_, Draco had carried the cup up to her royal highness, his mother, feeling quite proud of himself.

Only to find that Granger had already both tea and conversation.

He soon found that it really hadn't turned out so horribly in the end as he could hear Granger's voice without any restraints or an awkward tension between them.

In the end, it was his mother that broke the silence. Draco pressed closer to the door, trying to hear more clearly.

" You know, it's not me that you should be apologizing to." His mother said in a knowing tone that instantly made him suspicious.

But he couldn't help but be grateful to her for planting the idea in Granger's mind. He very much wanted to hear her thoughts in a conversation (indirectly) related to him, no matter how many times he told himself that he shouldn't, wouldn't care. As for this apology…maybe if he could hold out long enough when she made it, he could have her begging for his forgiveness.

He liked that idea a little too much.

Draco waited with baited breath for her response, "I know."

There. That was neither a flat out refusal nor an acquiescence. It was neutral. It implied possibility, he was a fan of possibility. And when the time came, he knew it would, he would be fully prepared to milk it for all he was worth. Which was quite a lot, mind you.

Smirking wickedly to himself, Draco took a sip of his tea. Only to discover that it was coffee.

* * *

A/N: So Hermione had taken the first step towards building a relationship with her future moms-in-law and Draco dear is doing what he does best: eavesdropping.

I don't want anyone thinking that Hermione is too submissive around Narcissa. I tried to portray her as respectful and polite for the first decent conversation they had together. As for Draco, who knows what's going on in his wicked little mind. Blaise fans, don't worry: he's back in the next chapter, no doubt causing some drama, trouble and/or mischief.

Reviews are always welcome!


	7. Chapter 7

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Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: Thank you for your continued support. I'm really sorry for not updating sooner but I was busy with finals then I turned 18 and then I went on Vac with my friends because I am finally done with school! **I am not nor will I be abandoning this story **but I have to admit that the idea has tempted me. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to **misfitXdoll** who reviewed within 0.5 seconds of me updating the last chapter. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating but she was really fast... Enjoy! Apologies for the language at the beginning!

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"-who the fuck you think you are! You're not the Goddamn 'Prince of Slytherin'! You can't just barge in here like you own the place! You're not doing us a favour by being here; in case you haven't noticed none of us want you here. So you can just fuck off."

Honestly, Draco had been expecting this.

He had seen it in Potter's eyes. He recognised the feeling. Potter looked like he felt except that he wasn't such a fool to wear it on his sleeve. Both his mother and Blaise had given him pointed looks throughout the week; they had been suspecting something like this. Draco and Boy Wonder had both been prowling through the Headquarters like caged animals. And today, they had finally reached their breaking points.

He had been walking up the stairs when Potter appeared at the top of the landing and he had refused to let Draco pass by. He was intentionally trying to aggravate Draco, trying to get a rise out of him. So when he felt the hand at his shoulder, shoving him into the wall he let him have it.

Because they both wanted it.

An all out screaming match ensued and Draco saw Blaise darting down the stairs, a shocked expression on his face. But Draco didn't care, he gave as good as he got, letting the frustration out. Everything that had been boiling in him since December was being released. And boy, did it feel good.

And Potter? The whiny little shit was ticked off because he wasn't being told anything. Draco knew it. Poor little Potter, the hero of the wizarding world was being kept in the dark and now Draco was to face the unleashed angsty beast. And the fact that he felt that the Malfoy's were 'taking over' was pissing him off to no end.

"What is it, Potter? Can't handle the fact that we Malfoy's have entered the heart of the Order without as much as a hitch? Or is it the fact that we know more than you? "

Draco didn't believe for one second that they had been accepted easily at all. In fact, that would be the last word he would choose to describe it. And he most certainly did not know more than Potter, he was just as much in the dark. He had no idea where his father was, never mind what he was doing. It was just that he needed to say something -anything- to keep himself from _fisting_ Potter square in the face and _breaking_ his damn glasses. During his little rant, Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Granger was here. He heard her gasp.

He didn't question it; he was tired of doing that, he didn't need to turn around to know that her big, brown eyes would be taking in the situation in worry and concern. But concern for whom was the question and Draco already knew the answer. Damn Potter.

"Shut up. Shut up! You know what you are? You're nothing but a little coward! You couldn't even accept the Dark Mark! Hiding behind your mother's petticoat while your father did all the work, and now? It's just the same isn't it. Your father is out there; risking his neck for your family while you hide in this house behind your mum's door. But you're okay with that, right? As long as someone else is doing the dirty work and you're not in immediate danger. You fucking coward!"

Oh, Potter. You hypocritical idiot.

Hermione dared to speak up then although very hesitantly, "Harry, please-"

"Don't you open your mouth. Do you think Ron and I don't know about your chat sessions with-"

" Hey, don't raise your voice at her, this is between you and me." He was no longer shouting, he didn't need to. Draco had as good as won this argument, Potter had seen to that."What do you want from me, Potter? Huh? "

Boy Idiot was about to open his mouth, no doubt to say something offensive but Draco cut him off again. "First, you flat out accuse me of having the Mark, of being a Death Eater. And then when you find out you were wrong all of a sudden I'm too much of a coward? So, in essence, what you're saying is that you would prefer it if I was a murderer. If I was out there killing and torturing innocent muggles or, even better, your friends? "

Complete silence met his words but he wasn't done yet.

"Make up your mind. You're supposed to be the goddamned hero of the wizarding world. Instead you sit here day after day waiting for somebody to tell you what to do next. Well, let me tell you something, the rest of us don't have someone to instruct us on what to do next. So, the next time you decide to wallow in self-pity, don't take it out on the people who are trying to help you or on me and my family either. _Do something about it!_"

With that said, he ignored their thunderstruck expressions and pushed passed Longbottom who was standing on the stairs with Granger. He slowed down to catch her wide, surprised gaze but did not stop. She looked back at him as he passed, an expression on her face that Draco could not place. He didn't want, need or care to know what she was thinking anyway.

He was cross with her. She hadn't even attempted apologizing and February was nearly over.

* * *

"Well, that was entertaining at the very least."

"Go away, Blaise." His best friends' words were muffled by the pillow he was trying to suffocate himself with.

He shut the door behind him and took a seat on his own bed while he observed the blonde on the bed next to his. Blaise had no intention of going anywhere when he wanted to berate his friend for the marvelous show he had just put on for the Gryffindors. Truly, it had been a spectacular fall out. The way Draco had shut Potter up, Blaise had no idea that his fellow Slytherin would be able to pull it off. But underneath all that Blaise also had no idea about Draco's conflicting emotions.

Yes, he knew that Draco was having a harder time than both he and his mother but after Draco had spoken to Narcissa, he seemed to have calmed down. He was even getting a full night's sleep these days. So, earlier Blaise had been just as shocked as the rest of them. He knew that, when needed, Draco could be spiteful and Draco could be downright nasty but today that was neither of his intentions. He was truly telling Potter off, telling him where to go instead of verbally taunting and teasing him as per usual.

Blaise cleared his throat, "So…" Draco either groaned or just swore at him , Blaise couldn't discern the difference, "You wanna tell me what all that was about?"

No answer.

"You know I'm not going anywhere unless you answer me."

An angry exhalation. Blaise finally reached over and snatched the pillow away, Draco leaped forward and tried to grab the pillow back but Blaise threw it to the foot of his bed.

"Dammit! There's nothing to tell. You were there, weren't you? You have eyes and ears, don't you? I don't need to tell you anything."

Blaise threw his hands up in surrender, "Relax, I just mean…well, I don't really know what I mean actually. I think I'm still in shock."

"Please." Draco scoffed while he lifted himself into a sitting position, "You know just as well as I do that Potter deserved it. He was getting on everyone's nerves and someone had to put him in his place."

"And that someone was you?" Blaise snorted at the sour expression on Draco's face. "Well, no doubt Granger thinks you're a hero now." He added innocently, trying to gauge Draco's expression surreptitiously.

"Granger?" _Oho, somebody is looking a bit too interested in the tousled haired beauty!_

"Knock knock, little ones." The Weasley twins had taken to barging in uninvited these days.

"What do you want?" Draco asked moodily from his place on the bed. Neither one bothered to stand up in shock or surprise; it would only make the twins feel special.

"Look at this, George." Fred gestured to the two of them, "So unfriendly. Kids these days."

George mock-frowned in agreement, "Young whippersnappers."

Blaise raised his eyebrows, "Whipper – what?"

George dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "Never mind. We actually came down here with a purpose this time."

"Oh really?", Blaise said, leaning his elbows back on the bed, " I thought coming in to check if we were alive every 10 minutes last night was reason enough."

Both Blaise and Draco had barely slept last night as the Weasley twins had taken it upon themselves to watch over the boys, coming in every ten minutes to check up on them. This consisted of flipping the mattresses on four separate occasions to get rid of the 'dust bunnies'; setting of firecrackers to make sure that they hadn't gone deaf or blind in the space of ten minutes and playing a recorded trumpet to see if they were really sleeping. Of course, being wandless they couldn't prevent Fred and George from apparating into their room and, of course, a silencing charm had been placed over the area to insure that nobody else was disturbed. The twins seemed to be coping with the loss of sleep better than the two Slytherin's.

Well, both Blaise and the twins seemed to be handling it better than Draco. Blaise knew how he could get when he didn't get his sleep, no wonder he had snapped today.

"Oh hush you." Fred plopped himself down on Draco's bed unceremoniously, "This time we have _valid _reason to be here."

Draco scoffed, "Yeah, well you're interpretation of valid may differ to ours."

George, who had taken it upon himself to take up most of the space on Blaise's bed, sniffed haughtily, "Well, we just came down to congratulate you on an excellent spar with Mr. Potter but if you're gonna be like that then never mind."

Blaise and Draco exchanged looks of shock both for the twins' easy-going behaviour and the current topic of conversation.

This did not go unnoticed by either Fred or George, "What? You don't think that we can be fair?" Fred asked.

"Well… it does seem a bit out of character." Blaise answered, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, come on. We heard word for word what went down and let me tell you, it's very hard to impress the Weasley twins. So congratulations, Mr. Malfoy." George informed him, matter-of-factly.

Draco raised an eyebrow incredulously (Blaise had always secretly envied this ability), "Aren't you supposed to be on Potter's side?"

Fred answered, "No matter how out of line Harry has gotten in the past, nobody had ever stood up to him and said the things that you did today. I mean we were all kinda secretly thinking it anyway."

Blaise had to wonder why the twins were admitting this to the two people who were considered the enemy but he didn't voice this out loud. Draco was already firing the next question.

"You two are nutters. Wait a minute. You said you heard word for word…surely we weren't that loud ?"

Fred snorted a laugh, "You probably were but George and I had the advantage of using _the ears-_," At this point Draco and Blaise exchanged glances again, "Oh, sorry. A couple of years back, we invented these 'extendable ears' that allow us to hear any conversation. Of course, we've managed to modify it so we can hear from any length and through anything. So the spell Ms. Granger cast did not prevent us from hearing everything."

George confirmed all of this would a smug nod of his head.

Blaise (and Draco) picked up on something else though, "Granger cast a silencing spell?"

"Probably to save Potter from getting into trouble." Draco interjected. Was that a note of resentment that Blaise was detecting?

"Speaking of!" George said, sitting up suddenly, "Don't think that everyone's forgotten that you stood up for Hermione."

Fred laughed outright at the expression on Draco's face.

"Wh-What? I- I did no such-" He sputtered.

Fred managed to interrupt him, "Yeah whatever Malfoy. Just as long as you know that we know what you don't want anyone to know. Isn't that right, Zabini?"

"Uh…"

"Good boy." George mocked, "Now get off the bed, you're taking up all the space."

Blaise managed to catch himself from becoming acquainted with the floor after George had shoved him off his own bed.

* * *

A/N: So Draco and Blaise are well on their way to becoming good friend with Fred and George don't you think? Don't worry, the next chapter will have more Draco/Hermione moments and also an important revelation for our young Slytherins...any guesses on what that could be?

I promise that the next chapter will not take as long as this chapter did. I had it all typed up but just could not find the time to post it. Now that I am finisished school (forever!) hopefully this story will be completed some time in the _near _future!

I would like to take this opportunity to wish all of you a very MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Remember reviews are always appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not bear claim to the Harry Potter series.

A/N: I hope everyone had a wonderful New Years! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I'm really glad that a few of you found the fight between Draco and Harry so intense. I love hearing from you guys. So I got my acceptance letter from one of the most prestigious universities in the country and I'm officially gonna be a uni student on the 9th of Feb!

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Two days after Harry had blown up at Malfoy and Ron had gotten over his disappointment at missing the chance to get into a fight, Harry decided to come out of recluse. He had hidden himself in his room that he shared with Ron and had even refused to come out to eat. Hermione knew that although she had cast the silencing spell, everyone had an idea of what was going on. Or maybe it was because Malfoy was also avoiding everyone.

Harry found her in the kitchen making tea while conversing with Neville and Ginny, both of whom sat at the scrubbed, wooden table and seemed just as surprised to see him downstairs.

"Harry," Ginny got up from the table, walking towards the cupboards, "you must be hungry. Hermione made stew last night. Let me get you some."

Harry, who had been waiting for Hermione to make eye contact with him, sighed loudly when she stubbornly avoided his gaze and took a seat next to Neville, "Thanks Gin".

She smiled as Ginny leaned past her to grab a serving spoon and winked at her. Hermione set the tray down on the counter and went to the cupboard in the corner to fetch two cups and saucers.

Neville cleared his throat nervously at the tension that had suddenly mounted in the kitchen, "So…"

Ginny, who placed a hot bowl of stew in front of Harry, took a seat again, "So?"

"Uh."

Blaise Zabini suddenly appeared in the doorway, the easy smile slipped off his face though when he saw Harry at the table, "Longbottom, your Gran's sent you an owl."

The relief on Neville's face was so evident that Hermione was tempted to giggle at him but as he and Zabini disappeared through the door, she caught sight of Harry glaring in Zabini's direction. She sighed heavily and banged the biscuit container down on the counter.

Really, this was getting to be ridiculous and Hermione was tired of it. Instead of isolating the two Slytherins and creating more reasons to become bitter at each other, they should at least try to be amicable with each other. It wouldn't kill them and maybe then Malfoy and Zabini would be just a bit more willing to help them through the war.

Hermione heard Harry clear his throat awkwardly behind her but she refused to acknowledge him or turn around. If Harry could be angry then why couldn't she? After all, he had yelled at her in front of everyone and over the fact that she was being hospitable towards Narcissa Malfoy.

Well, a little hospitality wouldn't kill him or Ron, for that matter.

"Hey Ginny, can you give Hermione and me a moment alone, please?" Harry asked, quietly.

Both girls froze in their actions but Ginny responded moodily, "Sure."

Hermione could hear the surprise and dejection that colored her friend's tone. Ginny scraped her chair back loudly and stalked out of the kitchen. _And then there was one…_

"Hermione."

She sighed again and heard Harry put down his spoon.

"Listen, Hermione."

"Yes?" She replied, deciding not to be immature any longer.

"At least turn around and look at me." Harry pleaded with her.

She put the kettle back on the stove and turned to give him her full attention. She looked at him as she leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms and he looked back at her, sensing the stubbornness in her gaze.

He dropped his eyes to the table, "This is good stew."

Hermione's faced morphed into an expression of incredulous, she answered him stoically though, "I brought you some last night."

"Really?"

"Yeah but when you yelled at me and slammed the door in my face, I kind of got the message that you didn't want it."

Harry had the decency to look ashamed and dropped his head into his hands and groaned, "Merlin, Hermione, I didn't mean to take my anger out on you, it's just, I _really _didn't want to listen to what you were saying."

Hermione walked forward and took Ginny's vacated seat, "I know that Harry, it doesn't make it hurt any less though."

"I've been a royal git, haven't I?", He smiled as she burst out laughing at his expression, "Can you find it in the goodness of your pure, beautiful, kind, gentle heart to forgive me?"

Hermione giggled as she placed her hand in his outstretched one, "Of course, I can. We've been through worse."

Harry nodded his head solemnly, "That we have and it only made us all stronger."

"You're such a sap, Harry." She laughed.

"There you two are." Ron said, as he came in through the door, taking a seat at the table as well, "Kissed and made up, I see."

Harry leaned back in his chair, "Ron, mate-"

"Yeah, I know," Ron cut him off, placing a hand on his stomach, "Merlin, I'm hungry. Anymore of that stew left, Mione?"

Hermione pushed her chair back and got up, going back to the kettle on the stove, "Yeah but you're gonna have to help yourself, I'm a bit preoccupied."

"With what?"

But Harry's eyes were already narrowed as he scrutinized the contents of the tray, "You're still going to see Narcissa Malfoy?"

Hermione whirled around at his hurt tone, "Harry, you just apologized for-"

"Yeah, and I thought you understood-"

Ron put his hands out to both of them in an attempt to referee between them, "All right, you two that's enough, seriously. Harry, you just apologized so don't muck it up again. Hermione, what in the blazes do you think you're doing?"

Hermione, who had been in agreement with Ron, spluttered in outrage, "What do I think I'm doing? What do I think I'm doing? What do _you _think you're doing?"

"Mione, you're not even making sense!" Harry shouted over her.

Hermione brought her hands up to her temples, closing her eyes, "We're just going round in circles. Please, just remain calm and listen to me. I'm not in cohorts with anybody; I'm not betraying you and I haven't turned my back on either of you. I just happen to enjoy talking with Mrs. Malfoy. Don't look at me like that; all it is is pleasant conversation, ok?"

Ron immediately piped up, "But-"

"No buts! I said, ok?"

"Ok." Harry seemed a little more rational now, "It's not that we don't trust you, Mione. It's them."

"Yes, well, _they _are in your house. And _they_ just might be a bit friendlier if you were a bit more hospitable." Hermione said in her know-it-all fashion, picking up her tray and turning back to them.

"That will never happen, you might as well-"

Hermione exhaled heavily, "Aren't you tired of this war?"

Although neither of them had a response for her, it did nothing to lessen the anger in either of their eyes.

"Promise me that you will at least think over what I said last night." She addressed Harry.

The left side of his lip curled in distaste at what she was asking him to do, "Fine."

She took that as her cue to leave.

* * *

"…and just last night, they asked Blaise and I if we would mind being test subjects. As if it were an honour for us or something."

His mother was acting suspiciously, Draco noted.

And whenever, his mother was acting suspiciously, that normally meant that she was going to do or had done something that she had no business doing but was going to do it anyway.( And that could possibly be trouble for him).

"Is everything alright, mother?" He asked, Draco could tell that she wasn't paying much attention to their conversation. She didn't seem particularly interested in the inventions of the Weasley twins, ingenious though they may be.

Some of the things that Fred and George were able to come up with were truly terrifying. Draco wondered, not for the first time, how they were able to come up with some of their ideas. In school, everyone saw them as troublesome pranksters that were wasting their time at Hogwarts but the two of them were much more intelligent than the credit given to them. He remembered the various times that their inventions were used against the Death Eaters.

In particular, the 'Okri bomb' that had caught Avery and Knucklehurst off guard just last year. The smell alone was bad enough, let alone the rash that had developed.

"Why do you keep asking that, dear? I'm fine." Narcissa Malfoy answered her son as she resumed her seat across the table from him, "It's just so lovely to hear that you're making friends now."

Draco sneered at the term 'friends' (Old habits die hard, I guess), "Mother, please don't phrase it like that."

"Phrase it like what? You're friends aren't you?"

"You make it sound like I'm eleven years old again", he explained grumpily, "It's about time that you realize that I am not a child anymore, Mother. As far as the society goes, I haven't been a child for four years now. I'm going to be 21 this year!"

It really only sunk it as he said it. Draco Malfoy, heir to Lucius Malfoy, was turning 21 this year. His father had successfully began his career at Malfoy Inc. when he was Draco's age. And here he was 4 years after graduating and he was still unemployed with the war still looming over his head like a bleak cloud.

His mother, who had been regarding him (a bit misty –eyed) in his pensive manner, seemed surprised with his next question.

"What did Father tell the Dark Lord?"

"Pardon, dear?"

Draco sat up straighter in his armchair, "Surely, he _must_ have noticed our absence by now. No matter my opinion, the Dark Lord isn't _that_ stupid." Pity, the same couldn't be said for some of his Death Eaters.

His mother cast her eyes at the empty fireplace before answering, "He believes that we are in Scotland. You're father told the Dark Lord that you and Blaise had heard rumors about…an artifact that would please him greatly and so took it upon yourselves to retrieve it."

When Draco did not reply, she continued, "He was angry, at first, that you would do so without coming to him. He…seemed to think that teaching your Father a lesson in authority would assuage his anger though. But Severus said that he is very eager to receive this artifact, especially from the two of you. It appears that these four years have sorely tempted his patience. He was beginning to demand an initiation which you narrowly missed."

Draco managed to speak calmly although his heart was beating erratically, "And when we return empty-handed? What will happen? That is, if we even return at all."

She shook her head slowly, "Your Father has not planned that far ahead."

Draco exhaled heavily, for the first time; he realized just how heavy a burden this was for his Father and, indirectly, his mother.

"Do you know where Father is?"

A shake of the head was all the answer he received.

He reached both hands to his temples and began to massage them against the throbbing, screwing his eyes shut. Here he was, lecturing his mother about how she shouldn't treat him like a child anymore when he had most certainly not been acting like a man in the first place.

"You're Father knows quite well what he is doing, son."

"I just feel so…" Ashamed of himself was exactly what he was feeling.

Mercifully, his mother saved him the embarrassment of completing the sentence by smiling feebly at him. Draco realized that she was trying to lighten the mood which had turned quite ominous at the last turn.

Before he could even think about returning her smile though, or even changing the topic, someone took it upon themselves to interrupt their Mother-Son moment by knocking on the door.

His mother's smile wasn't so feeble anymore. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Won't you open the door, Draco dear?" She asked him sweetly.

Too sweetly for Narcissa Malfoy. Definitely suspicious, he noted as he moved to open the door.

He cast one more skeptical look over his shoulder before he pulled the door open and found… a silver tray, behind which stood the most annoying, endearing, frustrating and fascinating witch in existence (at least in his mind), Hermione Granger.

Yes, his mother was definitely minding business that was not her own.

For her part, Granger looked just as surprised as he did, "Dra- Malfoy." She exclaimed at seeing him standing in the doorway.

Draco found it increasingly difficult not to smile at the expression on her face following her slip at almost calling him by his first name. Merlin strike him but it was almost…cute.

"Granger."

And then, he just stood there (like an imbecile) wondering what she was doing there with a silver tray floating between them. For her part, Granger seemed just as immobile as he was.

Behind him, his mother decided to remind them off her presence, "Who is it, dear?"

_As if you don't know_, he resisted the temptation of rolling his eyes, "It's Granger."

"Oh, Ms. Granger, do come in. I hadn't realized it was time for our tea just yet."

While silently applauding his mother's acting ability, he took note of the term 'our tea' and the fact that it seemed to be an ongoing thing. Really, these moments where they just stood and looked at each other were really getting to be too much. Next time he was just going to kiss her.

_Why? Because I can and, more importantly, I want too._

By the time, Granger had brushed past him and he had remembered to close the door, Granger had already set the tray on the table and was about to make herself comfortable in his vacated armchair.

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably while Granger avoided looking at him. After a few moments of awkward silence, in which his mother fairly beamed at him, he decided that maybe the best thing would be too leave.

"Well, I'll just leave you two lovely ladies to your tea." Draco was just starting to enjoy the way Granger's brown eyes widened at his compliment when his mother decided to interrupt him.

"Nonsense, dear. You're more than welcome to join us. I'm sure, Ms. Granger has no objections." His mother waved her hand dismissively.

Oh, Draco couldn't wait to hear this. Both he and his mother looked at the Gryffindor in question, awaiting her reply, "S-Sure. I only brought two cups though, I can pop down and fetch-"

His mother waved her hand again," No, no don't worry. It's no trouble." She brought her wand out of her robe pocket and conjured up another teacup and saucer.

Draco had to fight not to let his grin tear across his face as he took a seat at the table. He was doing a terrible job at present and was thankful that both women were preoccupied in preparing their tea.

His mother smiled at both of them again, "Well, isn't this nice?"

Judging by her tense body posture, red face, averted eyes and clenched hands; Draco could tell that Hermione Granger thought it was anything other than nice.

Really, his cheeks were starting to burn with the force he was exerting not to let his grin dominate his face.

* * *

Half an hour later, it seemed that Granger had forgotten in who's company she sat.

She was relaxed, at ease, friendly, polite and had even smiled at him once. And, by Jove, if he wasn't all the more fascinated with her.

It was nothing short of a miracle. Well, not a miracle exactly but Draco knew they would never had progressed as they had in half an hour if Narcissa Malfoy had not been there to act as a referee.

Not that anything unpleasant had come up. Merlin, he had even flirted with her a time or two. Nothing heavy, his mother was present after all. Just enough to show her that Draco Malfoy was no longer the boy she knew in school.

Even if he had only decided to, well and truly, become a man a little more than half an hour ago.

He was pleased to find that the relationship between his mother and Granger was polite and good-natured. Now the two of them could even reminisce about their Hogwarts' days (within reason, of course).

"Really, Granger, you pack quite a punch, I'm telling you I think I have a scar on my cheekbone."

He delighted in the small laugh she let out, "You do not."

He contemplated asking her if she wanted to get closer to see for herself when his mother spoke up, "Draco, dear, I'm sure you're tea must be cold by now."

He looked down at the contents of his tea cup that he had been stirring for well past 5 minutes. Granger laughed again and he had no qualms about letting out his grin this time.

While his mother drew her in to another conversation, he was content to sit back, observe and drink his tea (for the moment). He picked up his teacup and brought it to his lips…and resisted the urge to spit it back out.

Both women seemed to notice his facial expression and his mother quickly questioned him, "Draco, what's wrong?"

Having no other choice, he swallowed before he answered, "Just burned my tongue that's all."

Noticing their dubious expressions, He quickly remembered that his tea was now ice cold.

Thankfully, the two decided to ignore him and resumed their conversation. He noticed Granger cast him another worried glance in his direction. Though, whether she was concerned over him or his sanity, he wasn't sure. He would have liked to believe that it was over him but the latter wouldn't have been too far off the mark.

It was definitely tea this time that much he was sure of. If he had been paying attention to what he was doing instead of becoming engrossed with all things Granger then maybe he would not have emptied half the contents of the sugar bowl into his teacup thereby not embarrassing himself in front of a woman who was captivating more and more of his attention.

He had long since admitted he was physically attracted to Hermione Granger, mostly because Blaise, George and Fred had eventually broken him down two days prior but now it was the little things he was noticing about her.

Her thin, dainty hands. Her full mouth that was just begging him for a kiss. Her cute nose. Her elegant neck. He even found that he was coming to respect her personality. And, his favourite part, her eyes.

He would've gone on to wax poetic about all her features but Blaise seemed to think it the perfect time to burst into the room and break the charm in the air.

"What's this?" He pretended to be offended, "A tea party without me? Well, I'll be. You never know who your true friends are until they stab you in the back."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. " His mother replied, not in the least affected by his tone, "Are we supposed to guess when you will deign to grace us with your presence?"

"Draco I can understand", Blaise said, as he came closer, "But, Granger, You too?"

Granger smiled politely, "I should go." She began placing everything back onto the tray.

Draco found that he really didn't want this time to end. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it may be the last time that things were so warm between them and even if he had to have his mother and surrogate brother in the room as well, he didn't want her to leave.

Blaise's next words brought reality crashing down around his ears, "Before you go, I just came to announce that we are _all_ requested to be present at an Order meeting later this evening in the ground floor sitting room."

His mother spoke first, "What's it about?"

"I wasn't told. Unless you know something?" Blaise addressed Granger.

"No, this is the first I'm hearing off it," Draco noticed that she seemed pleased by the thought of a meeting , maybe Granger knew more than she let on.

She stood up then and looked at all three of them evenly. She was even able to look at him in the eye now… Not that he was excited about it or anything.

"I really did enjoy myself. Thank you for such a nice time." Granger smiled politely at his mother.

"Thank you as well. See you later." His mother replied.

Granger then turned to him, the same smile now aimed in his direction. Did she really expect him to be able to form sentences when she smiled at him like that?

"Yeah, thanks… Good times…Good times."

Merlin, did that even make sense?

Apparently not, as Blaise was now snickering behind Granger's back.

"Oh-kay. I'm just gonna go."

Draco resisted the urge to smack his head on the table repeatedly as she closed the door softly behind him. As it is, his mother was smiling knowingly at him and Blaise was already mocking him.

"Good times, Draco m'boy, good times."

* * *

A/N: Ah, Draco. I really enjoyed writing Draco's POV though I was worried that it would be too much, please let me know if you thought so as well because that is the only way I can get better.

So just what is this Order meeting about? Has it got anything to do with the 'thing' that Hermione tried to talk to Harry about? And just what is this 'thing' anyway?

P.S: This is the longest chapter so far~

Reviews are alway appreciated!


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